Some Things Are Meant To Be
by DanielleLittle
Summary: Meera and Timas have had to part ways due to the demand of the Demonata, and Timas having to take care of Shark. Eventually, Timas can't stand to be apart from her any longer; he needs to find out what these new weird feelings are.
1. Chapter 1

**Some Things Are Meant To Be – Chapter One  
****Timas Brauss**

Shark's on all sorts of peculiar machines. He was so badly injured, no one thought he would be able to pull through. But Shark's a survivor and, against all odds, he seems to be recovering. I've spent a lot of time with Shark since he was admitted to hospital; I think he appreciates the company and besides, I quite like being around a disciple when there are demons on the loose. And anyway, I'm always happy when there are this many intricate machines around! Whenever I visit Shark, I spend at least half of my time scrutinizing these machines, contemplating how they work, and whether or not I could build something that does the job better, given a little time and the right equipment of course.

But even surrounded by this selection of delicious machinery, I just can't seem to be able to muster up the same enthusiasm as before. It's like there's something missing, like a section of my interest has given way to something else. I just can't focus entirely on them. Or on any of my laptops. Or anything else for that matter. I just keep thinking of her.

And then I get annoyed because, whenever I think of her, I get these strange tummy feelings, and I can't identify what they mean. I've always understood everything; there's never been anything that could confuse me. But I don't understand this. And so I consider it more because I'm trying to figure it all out, and then I get more of the strange tummy feelings and in the end, I just end up thinking about Meera. All the time. Always Meera. I think it's possible that she used her magic and put one of their bizarre disciple spells on me. I can't be sure though.

As I'm trying desperately to focus on the machines, a light on one flashes a bright yellow, and suddenly I'm thinking about Meera's blonde hair. Automatically I shake my head, before deciding that shaking one body part just isn't enough and shake my entire body instead. Ultimately concluding that such a mountain of a shake should be sufficient to rid myself of any unwanted thoughts, I glance at Shark. He's looking at me with an eyebrow raised and a concerned expression on his face. "You know, mate, I've always stood up for you when people have said you're mad, but I think you've just lost it."

I can't blame Shark for thinking I'm going mad, I think I am too. So, still looking at Shark, I sit down beside him on his bed. Now he looks even more concerned. So I look straight into his eyes and I say "Shark, I really need your help." At this point Shark laughs at me. He says I'm the smartest person that he knows and if I can't figure it out then no one in this universe or the next is going to be able to help me.

"Look, mate," he laughs, "That's just the way it is. Unless it's girl problems, I can't help you." I think about this for a minute. I've only ever heard someone mention 'girl problems' twice before; the first time was in the early years of secondary school, when a female in my class decided that, because I liked computers so much, I clearly had no interest in women, and therefore she could rant about her 'girly problem times' to me. The second was when I overheard some male youths discussing their current love interests, and apparently one of them never spent a day without some sort of 'girl problem'. Considering the options, I conclude that the type of problem Shark is referring to must be the latter. I also conclude that Meera is most certainly a woman. On coming to that conclusion, I turn to Shark, once again looking straight into his eyes, and say "Shark, I really need your help."


	2. Chapter 2

**Some Things Are Meant To Be – Chapter Two**

**Meera Flame**

The Demonata. That's all there is now. We have no time for anything else. All we do is fight, look for another window, fight again, look for another window, fight again, and if we're lucky sometimes we have enough time to get some sleep while we're travelling. But even that's hard when you have a great bloody werewolf howling in your ear. I used to love the life of a disciple. Not anymore. I loved the adventure, the travelling, the danger. We used to do some good; every time we went up against another mage, another window, another demon, we were saving lives, giving people an escape route. But now we're only delaying, and barely managing that.

I don't know why we bothered coming to this window. Compared to the others we've seen recently, it's just like a herd of bloody rabbits trying to invade. I honestly think that the time we've spent here would have been better use resting. How are we going to fight when more powerful demons cross if we've wasted all our energy on these? We could have checked in to a hotel, slept in real beds again. That has to happen soon. I don't care what Grubbs says, I am getting a bed.

Grubbs arrived with his werewolf pack a couple of days ago. They managed to sort out the attack on Bec and Dervish, and came to find me straight away. I appreciate Grubbs coming after me, but Dervish is an idiot. He's dying, and we can't save him here. He ought to go to a Demon world somewhere, but he isn't having any of it. Twat. I wish Shark was here, he always managed to talk sense into him. Hell, I wish they were all here; Shark, Sharmila, Beranabus, Timas… Particularly Timas. Not that I'd say that out loud. But I have to admit I did grow a little fond of that red-headed, anti-social, computer freak while we were on Wolf Island. I have no idea what on Earth attracted me to him; he's an absolute lunatic, and doesn't have a clue how to act around people. But then, he never tried to pretend otherwise. Whatever his flaws, at least he didn't try to hide; at least he was genuine. Oh, and not forgetting that he's a bloody good kisser! Always a plus in my books…

Weighing up these points on Timas distracts me for a moment and I feel a sharp slash across my back. I swing round just in time to see one of Grubbs' pack sweeping a demon into the air from just behind me. It's a hideous looking thing – black in colour, with short yellow hairs poking out from all over its body. It has six legs and no arms, but has a strange trunk-like thing on its face, like an anteater. Or a tiny elephant, one of the two. It makes a hideous squealing noise before the werewolf rips off the trunk and tosses it straight at a passing wasp demon. I turn away, not needing to look to know what will become of that creature now the wolf has its hands on it. Looking around, I figure out that the trunk demon is one of the last few. We're pretty much done with this window now. As the rest of the troop finish up with their mini battles, Grubbs barks a command at his pack, and they begin tucking in to the demon flesh scattered around. Well, if it keeps them happy who am I to disapprove?

For the next few minutes we can only stand there, looking around at yet more disaster the Demonata have caused, and hoping that not too much of the flesh being consumed is human. As we're sharing this mutual thought, a sense of magic sweeps over me. I look to the others, who have all had the same feeling. Suddenly, the reasoning behind the weaker demons being here makes a lot more sense. What if they were only sent to tire us out? If they were the calm before the storm, and now the real challenge is coming? Nodding silently, the group splits to look around for this window. Without Kernal, and with Bec distracted trying to heal as many of the injured as she can, we have no way of telling where the window is coming from.

Having had far too much practice by now, we automatically take a different direction to search, knowing that we have to cover as much ground as possible as fast as we can. I soon come across a small alley and, against my better judgement, begin to walk up. Hearing a noise from behind me, I quickly swivel round and scan the entrance for movement. Seeing nothing, I allow a small sigh of relief, but as soon as I do, a hand reaches round and grabs my mouth, pulling me backwards, further into the alley. Without hesitation, I reach for the hand and try to scream, but before I manage to pull it away I hear a familiar voice whispering into my ear.

"Shh, don't scream, please, it's only me. This way, quickly, before the others follow us."

I instantly know who the voice belongs to, and without thinking, I allow him to lead me backwards and deeper into the darkness of the alley.


End file.
